


Healing Touch

by electriclandlady



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, mystrade, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electriclandlady/pseuds/electriclandlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg gets sick, so Mycroft works from home to help him get better. That's what boyfriends do, isn't it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> More to come.

Greg Lestrade awoke to the harsh beeping of the alarm clock on his bedside table. He looked over at it, vision somewhat blurred from sleep. 07:15. Shit. He was supposed to be out of bed an hour ago for that new case he’d gotten the night before. But as he sat up, the room seemed to swirl and turn before him, as if he were on a carousel. His ears felt as if they’d been filled with cement, and he felt cold and clammy. No! There was no way he could get sick today. Not with a new case waiting for him. He sniffled, cleared his throat and pressed the “off” button on the blasted clock feebly. Mycroft Holmes, his partner, wandered into the room, straightening his pale blue tie as he came in.

“Gregory,” Mycroft urged. “Time to get up, you’re late.”

“Myc, I know that,” Greg answered, his voice sounding gravelly and rough. He practically buried his head in the crook of his arm to mute the wave of hacking and spluttering that followed.

Mycroft stopped in his tracks when he heard his lover cough. “On second thought, Gregory, with a cough like that, you are most definitely staying in bed today.” He tutted and shook his head. “I _told_ you to wear a coat after that investigation outside yesterday. You and I both knew it would rain.”

Greg sighed. “No, no, I’m fine, I swear.” He protested wanly, attempting to get up, but falling back frailly, dizzy with fever.

“Gregory. You _will_ stay in bed.” Mycroft pressed a hand to Greg’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Greg groaned and sniffled, letting his head hit the pillow with a soft _pff._

“But I—“

“Shhh. I’ll take care of you.” Mycroft placed a finger against Greg’s lips as his lover faded into sleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Why are you not here? SH

Greg groaned and blinked at his phone screen blearily as the text bubble appeared. “Ugh.” He sat up a little, picked up his phone and tapped out a reply.

I’m sick, Sherlock. GL

Sherlock replied almost immediately.

Obviously. SH

If you knew, then why did you ask me? GL

I was only confirming my deductions. SH

“Why, that pretentious—“ Greg stopped mid-sentence as Mycroft came back in, holding a cough syrup bottle in one hand and a blanket under his arm.

“Is my brother bothering you?” He questioned, already knowing the answer.

Greg nodded. “Oh don’t mind him. Sit up a bit, dear,” Mycroft insisted, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He poured some of the translucent, gooey liquid onto a spoon he produced from his pocket. “Drink.” He said simply, holding the spoon out towards Greg. Greg took the spoon into his mouth and gulped it quickly, grimacing at the acrid, fake taste.

“Myc, have these people even _tasted_ a strawberry?” Greg questioned, lying back down.

“Gregory, you will take more of this later no matter what taste it has,” Mycroft answered. “Now, sleep, love. This medicine isn’t non-drowsy, so it’ll make you sleepy. I’ll be back later with some soup.” He kissed Greg’s forehead and left.


End file.
